Picture captures a billion stars------------------------------------Jessica Traynor is an Irish poet with poems published in New Irish Writing, The SHOp, The Moth and The Stinging Fly. She won the 2011 Listowel Writers Week Poetry Award.

Thursday, 29 March 2012

Blood shed, but on whose hands the stain,a crimson red, hoodies blamed, the press unbound by facts or details, only hope to ignite the fire,and fan the flames,the life lost, young, dancing eyes in the photograph, the smile a killer, racism questioned, as once again a nation lost, over reacts, impatient,and immature, the whole story never known.

Tuesday, 27 March 2012

In older timeswe might have called thisa quick, dark moment.But this was white, bone hard.From the boy's club room.You were asked questionsthat you did not like.So you got some numbers tabledwhich you thought labelled the question asker, as Weak and greedy, needing help?No.What this piss markwas supposed to say, was"Don't mess with me,in my shining tower".A minister was revealedwho should be reviledfor this abuse of power.

Dalziel-Brownlee red-zone spat---------------------------------------Hamish is a 51 year old New Zealander, married with 2 children. He has been writing poems for about 3 years, and has had a some published. He also blogs, at Light of Passage.

Sunday, 25 March 2012

This week has had a distinctly familial feel to it, in that most of the poems are rooted in shared relationships, whether intimate, or in the broadest context of humanity. David Francis Barker started it with Descent, a tribute to Jacob Bronowski with a link to photographs published by the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum in Poland. And, from the evil of the Holocaust, Barbara Gabriel led us to the Horn of Africa, where Dedicated Indifference has resulted in starving people being failed by aid agencies and regional government.

But money doesn't always provide an answer, as Lavinia Kumar made clear, with her story of Huguette Clark. The Reluctant Heiress left an estate with an estimated value of £254.4 million. But that amount wouldn't buy a plaster to stick on the ailing NHS. Mike Richardson's Schrödinger Proposes a bill ponders the fate of the patient, which may well be alive and/or dead.

In a world away from science, it was a Piers Morgan interview with Dennis Waterman, that drew an admission from the actor, that he had beaten his former wife. And, on Friday Abigail Wyatt's Love Story spotlighted the emotional and physical pain of domestic abuse.

At the end of the week, Wendy Nicholson's reflective, Into the Void, brought the tragic loss of young lives to the fore, as memorial services were held in the wake of the Swiss coach crash that claimed 28 lives in total.

* * *

I'm ending this review with yet another call for poems. As I mentioned, earlier in the week, I have only a handful for consideration at the moment. We don't want to let the barrel run dry now, do we?

Why not join us on Facebook, where you can share ideas and opinions about poetry and events that shape poetic work. You can also request to join the Poetry24 group.

Friday, 23 March 2012

I’ve told you my secrets,
now tell me your lies;
how you can’t let me go
and you don’t want to try;
though you’ve loosened my teeth
and busted my jaw,
you love me completely,
much more than before;
and now that you’ve beaten
my face blue and black,
how grateful you’ll be
if I’ll just take you back.
Tell me you’re sorry,
you just lost control;
you never intended
to hurt me at all.
Then bring me a cuppa
and kneel by my chair;
beg my forgiveness,
and brush back my hair.
Adore me, amour me,
and make a great fuss;
then tell me a story,
that glorifies ‘us’.

Health reforms - where they stand-----------------------------------------Mike lived in Pembrokeshire. After University in West Wales, he left for City Life. He still hankers after the country that has inspired his writing.

Monday, 19 March 2012

Only months before he diedI watched Bronowski's bare veiny hands descend into that familial darkness,digging deep into the killing groundof soil and ashes, pasts remote and more recent,a stunning act of catharsisI still appreciatebut do not dare to comprehend.Thirty years separated him from family, trauma and pain has remainedan undiminished stain in his timeand in minebut if time, like death, is a conceptknown only to man,his mind would chart a different ascentand wish for better worlds to come

Auschwitz-Birkenau, then and now-------------------------------------------"I try to paint, write poetry, prose, sometimes music - I guess that makes me an artist." David Francis Barker. You can enjoy more of David's work at his website.

Sunday, 18 March 2012

Jessica Traynor made her Poetry24 debut, this week, in the midst of a solar storm, with her poem, A Modern Mayan Calendar. There may have been fears for our lines of communication, but Jessica's work came through loud and clear.

Abigail Wyatt's Small Change reflected the economic pinch felt by those over 50s known as the 'squeezed middle', while David Subacchi reminded us that, for some, money is no object. His poem, My Love, sprung from the story of musician, Nicola Benedetti, who impressed a London banker so much, with her playing, he handed her a Stradivarius, worth an estimated £6.3 million.

In a week when the Obamas and the Camerons were cosying up to each other, Lavinia Kumar's, Birther, again, highlighted the claim of an Arizona sheriff, that Mr President's birth certificate may be a forgery. And, while questions were being raised about Obama's origins, Philip Challinor put the Camerons under his own magnifying glass, with A Measure of Strength.

Mike Richardson, our second newcomer this week, marked the finale of the Six Nations Rugby Championship, and St Patrick's Day, with a heady piece of pseudo Shakespeare, to stir the blood.

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One poet brought to my attention the fact that the new word verification system makes the commenting process difficult, if not impossible. As a result, we've disabled it, in the hope that we can encourage more people to give feedback to the poets. So, now you can have your say without tripping over any words.

‘Banker lent me £6.3m Stradivarius after he heard me playing’---------------------------------------------------------------------------- David Subacchi is a civil servant who has been writing poetry seriously for just over a year. His latest collection ‘First Cut’ is published this month by Cestrian Press.

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

We didn’t fight for freedom and
a land fit for homecoming heroes.
We didn’t survive rationing, air raids,
fire bombs, dog fights, death camps, the Blitz.
We didn’t wake up to the stars above us
and shards of splintered glass in our slippers.
We didn’t see the ghastly dust that hung
on the morning like a shroud.

We didn’t fight it but the war was as real to us
as our fathers and our grateful mothers;
we grew up in the sunlight of their great relief,
heard their terror in the telling of their tales;
we sucked it in with our National Health milk
and we learned that we were the future;
at school, we bought poppies for the fallen dead
and wore them with innocent pride.

We were – we are – the baby boomers;
though now we are a nuisance and a burden,
then we were the tender young
for the sake of whom thousands had died.
When we were still in our nappies,
we were plagued by doubt, and pregnant
with our parents’ expectations: to be happy
was our daily task as our business
was to make things make sense.

Now as we grow older, close in our hearts,
we confront the grey ghost of our failure:
we doused the flame, we dropped the ball,
we turned our backs on the fight.
We dared a while but then we slept
and woke to find our shiny new world broken.
Now hope spills out like so much small change
and our pockets are bereft of our dreams.

Why baby boomers fare worst in recession
---------------------------------------------------- Abigail was born in Essex and now lives in Cornwall. She writes poetry and short fiction and pokes her nose into places where it is generally little wanted.

Sunday, 11 March 2012

This week, we marked International Women's Day with a fine poem by Abigail Wyatt, To Be or 36B, A Question of Identity. And while it appears that there really are some women who would consider trading intelligence levels for bigger breasts, or a slimmer figure, spare a thought for Mary Nyekueh Ley. She is the woman, whose truly miserable existence inspired Kushal Poddar's South and North.

On Wednesday, David Costello offered us Birth Day, reflecting the joy of four boys born to Emma Robbins, in Bristol. On Friday, Kim Rooney was moved to write War of the Roses, a reaction to the loss of six more young men in Afghanistan.

And, in a raid on Dublin's Christ Church Cathedral, a heart was stolen. Helena Nolan's, The Stolen Heart, contains a message from Dublin's Saint Laurence O'Toole.

Finally, a message of hope. Anthony Baverstock's haunting video, You, who stand dying, is a poignant work to mark the first anniversary of the Japanese tsunami.

Remember, if you find yourself moved to write a poem in the light of a news event, we'd love to read it. We'd also like to use more YouTube footage of poets performing their topical work.

It seems fitting, as we in the UK are being treated to a special astronomical event, to offer you this, from James Schwartz.

Switzerland Announces Plan to Clean Up Space Junk-----------------------------------------------------------------Poet and slam performer, James Schwartz strives for the simplicity of Cavafy mixed with modern gay wordplay. His book, The Literary Party: Growing Up Gay and Amish in America, was published by in Group Press in 2011.

Friday, 9 March 2012

War of the RosesWill only the poets writeof the leaving of War-minster? Enlistment tothe 404. Six sonsfrom the Houses of Yorkand Lancaster, together.Huddersfield to HelmandThe white rose to the land of the poppyand a single red rose too.

Thursday, 8 March 2012

Who are these women who keep their brains
stashed in their pre-moulded bras?
In fifty years, I’ve known many women,
few as shallow as those posited here.
As a child I aspired to a 36B
and learned how inches count;
at fourteen, though, I was never tempted
to give up the power to think.
At least, in ’68, the tits were real
and the best and the biggest of them sagged;
implants were beyond our reach
and the airbrush as yet undreamed.
Now the media would have us teach
our daughters that Essex is the only way.
Perhaps they think, by such a project,
to keep them mute and unschooled.

Would you rather have big boobs or brains?
----------------------------------------------------- Abigail publishes poetry and short fiction. She lives in Redruth, Cornwall and performs her work at the Melting Pot, Krowji, The Unplugged Chameleon, St Ives, and The Be Spoken Word in Penzance.

Monday, 5 March 2012

They draw a line down her home.This side, they say, is not that side.Whenever she crosses the line, they make her bleed.And take her husband as prisoner until they decide which country they have and which they lost.

She marries again. One crazy beard from the side she live.Her two sons bring diarrhea in protest.Her new husband loves her hit and broken.So she escapes.She crosses the line again and waits for the new wounds.They cover up the older ones.

For Woman in Sudan, No Escape From Misery--------------------------------------------------------- Kushal Poddar (1977- ) resides in Kolkata, India. He has written fiction and scripts for TV and his poems have been published in various online and print magazines all over the world.

Sunday, 4 March 2012

In this Sunday Supplement we've included the usual weekly Review, an insight into our Submission process and TWO new poems.

ReviewThe Germans have a saying: 'one eye laughing, the other eye crying'... and that's how Poetry24 felt this week. Lavinia Kumar's harrowing No Longer Crying Inside about torture in Homs, Jim Bennett's moving Hillsborough and an intriguing poem from Ana Garza G'z relating to blinded policeman David Rathband all brought tears to our eyes. But it was tears of laughter with Fran Hill's beer spilling: The Kitchen Lads and of a sense of frustration from new contributor L.S. Bassen on the US Abortion Bill and in Philip Challinor's skeptical Helping Out suggesting assistance to Somalia wasn't entirely altruistic - as if!

Submission processOne of the eternal dilemmas for us as editors of Poetry24 is how to choose. I'm not the most decisive person in the world and am often flummoxed by the conundrums thrown up by contributors. If we get a bunch of good ones all at once do we hold on until they're stale (but still good) or go for newer 'fresh' stuff... how long can we hold on before it's too old? You may have noticed we sometimes publish a very topical poem when we've had your submission a week and it may not seem fair. But here's the order of priority Martin and I agree on:#1 great and totally topical#2 great and less topical#3 good and totally topical#4 good and less topical#5 ok and totally topical

Of course, we also like to ensure we have a range of styles, subject matter and poets each week, so that comes into the mix too - and all of this on the hoof on a daily basis! We'd be interested to hear your thoughts on how we're doing - either in the comments here or by email.

The Monkees lead Davy Jones tributes----------------------------------------------- Jason is a poet, comedian and artist who has supported John Cooper Clarke, performed live in a bed in public and invented the tin opener. (One of these facts isn't true.)

Friday, 2 March 2012

When I consider how my light is spent,I think of all the windows and the doorsI’ve pounded on—raw knuckles, sore feet—the boardsAnd panes I’ve stood before unmoving and indifferent.The waiting is as fevered and as bent as a dream about a bony whorewho couldn’t give herself away for warmth.I think about my talent, the one God sentme with a shovel and a rocky field--no seeds, no cache, no promise of a find,no pledge that knocking leads to welcoming.When god’s joke is night, the laugh is houses sealed,Dead stones, the seething judgment of the blind:They never serve who won’t let others in.

Blinded policeman found dead-------------------------------------Ana Garza G'z has an M. F. A. from California State University, Fresno. 35 of her poems have appeared in various anthologies and journals, with one forthcoming in The Mom Egg.

Thursday, 1 March 2012

The kitchen lads had eyes as wide as skiesThe day I said what I was going to do.They said, ‘In front of international eyes?With all the nation’s cameras turned on you?’They didn’t seem to see: that was the pointOf planning to spill beer down Merkel’s back;Of making it seem just a newbie’s gaffe.Pff. What did I care if I got the sack?I’d always be ‘The one who spilled the ale’.I’d have a scrapbook stuffed with every pic.They’d know me on the street. They’d point. And stare.And get out all their camera phones and click.

The kitchen lads had eyes as wide as skiesThe day I planned the Merkel beer surprise.

German Chancellor gets drenched in beer--------------------------------------------------Fran lives in the West Midlands (UK). She teaches English in a local secondary school, writes, performs, blogs, tweets and tries to resist chocolate.